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Zusatztext “And guys ! Jackson is HOT . He's got a sexy Cajun accent! he's tall! dark and he speaks French. Evie was awesome right from the start! and much like Jackson! she went through a hell of a lot in just this first book. I want to reread this again and again. Starting right this minute!” Informationen zum Autor Kresley Cole is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Immortals After Dark paranormal series. Her books have been translated into many foreign languages, garnered two RITA awards, and consistently appear on the bestseller lists in the U.S. and abroad. Poison Princess is the first book in her new young adult series, The Arcana Chronicles . Visit her at KresleyCole.com. Klappentext In the aftermath of a cataclysmic event, 16-year-old Evie, from a well-to-do Louisiana family, learns that her terrible visions are actually prophecies and that there are others like herselfNembodiments of Tarot cards destined to engage in an epic battle. Poison Princess DAY 6 B.F. STERLING, LOUISIANA “How are you feeling?” Mom asked with an appraising eye. “You sure you’re up for this?” I finished my hair, pasted on a smile, and lied through my teeth, “Definitely.” Though we’d been over this, I patiently said, “The docs told me that settling back into a normal routine might be good for someone like me.” Well, at least three out of my five shrinks had. The other two insisted that I was still unstable. A loaded gun. Trouble with the possibility of rubble. “I just need to get back to school, around all my friends.” Whenever I quoted shrinks to her, Mom relaxed somewhat, as if it was proof that I’d actually listened to them. I could remember a lot of what the docs said—because they’d made me forget so much of my life before the clinic. With her hands clasped behind her back, Mom began strolling around my room, her gaze flickering over my belongings—a pretty, blond Sherlock Holmes sniffing for any secrets she didn’t yet know. She’d find nothing; I’d already hidden my contraband in my book bag. “Did you have a nightmare last night?” Had she heard me shoot upright with a cry? “Nope.” “When you were catching up with your friends, did you confide to anyone where you really were?” Mom and I had told everyone that I’d gone to a special school for “deportment.” After all, you can’t prep a daughter too early for those competitive sororities in the South. In reality, I’d been locked up at the Children’s Learning Center, a behavioral clinic for kids. Also known as Child’s Last Chance. “I haven’t told anyone about CLC,” I said, horrified by the idea of my friends, or my boyfriend, finding out. Especially not him. Brandon Radcliffe. With his hazel eyes, movie-star grin, and curling light-brown hair. “Good. It’s our business only.” She paused before my room’s big wall mural, tilting her head uneasily. Instead of a nice watercolor or a retro-funk design, I’d painted an eerie landscape of tangled vines, looming oaks, and darkening skies descending over hills of cane. I knew she’d considered painting over the mural but feared I’d reach my limit and mutiny. “Have you taken your medicine this morning?” “Like I always do, Mom.” Though I couldn’t say my bitter little pills had done much for my nightmares, they did stave off the delusions that had plagued me last spring. Those terrifying hallucinations had been so lifelike, leaving me temporarily blinded to the world around me. I’d barely completed my sophomore year, brazening out the visions, training myself to act like nothing was wrong. In one of those delusions, I’d seen flames blazing across a night s...
